Almost Like Family
by Chaos's Prototype
Summary: The trouble with darkness is that it changes you. It distracts you and leads you down every path but the right one, and leaves you lost and confused. It makes you forget things. Things like friends. Even friends that might as well have been family.
1. Theme 76: Gazed at the Stars

**A/N: This is my entry for Raberba girl's platonic love challenge **_**Other Kinds of Love**_**. I'm doing it for the original five apprentices and Ansem the Wise, along with their Nobodies and DiZ. I'll be doing various different groupings of characters. They'll be posted in sets on here.**

**Disclaimer: **_**Kingdom Hearts **_**is the property of Square Enix and Disney. The **_**Other Kinds of Love **_**challenge is belongs to **_**Raberba Girl**_**.**

**SPOILERS: For **_**Dream Drop Distance **_**and **_**Kingdom Hearts II**_**.**

**Theme 76: *Gazed at the Stars- Ienzo and Aeleus; During **_**Dream Drop Distance**_**.**

***This theme is taken from the bonus themes list and is **_**not **_**the original theme.**

_**XxXxXxXxX**_

"What are you doing out here?"

Ienzo glances back at him, offering a greeting as Aeleus stops next to him. "Oh, hello. And I'm not entirely sure; just watching I suppose."

"For signs of the Keybearers' work." It isn't a question, for he knows the boy too well to need to ask. At Ienzo's nod, he goes on with, "You could be out here for days, you know."

Ienzo laughs (Aeleus still isn't entirely used to that, or at least the sincerity of it). "Come now, have a little faith in them. After all, we know just how strong they can be—or one of them, at least. And Sora must have skill as well, to have defeated the Sup—Xemnas. Neither of them are pushover; we shouldn't expect their progress to reflect such."

"Fair enough," Aeleus concedes, turning his gaze skyward as well. "Any sign of returning worlds?"

"Not from what I've seen, but I'm sure that I just happen to have missed it." There is a brief lull before he asks, quieter this time, "Which worlds are left, do you think?"

"We know whichever world Monstro comes from is one of them, if it hasn't already awakened, and the world—or worlds—that Marluxia and Larxene were from."

"Oh, that's right; their Somebodies were found in Traverse Town, weren't they? I had almost forgotten about that, what with all of the—Oh! Did you see that?"

He's grinning again, wider than Aeleus has ever seen him, and pointing at something in the night sky. It takes Aeleus a moment to realize what the emotion written across Ienzo's face is, so alien is it to both of them. It's _excitement_.

"What?"

"There! It—it was _right there_!" He is on his feet now, gesturing wildly. "Didn't you see it?"

"See what?"

"The star, it—it just sort of—didn't you _see it_?"

"Apparently not."

"That's another world," Ienzo murmurs, no longer shouting, but the smile still present. "Another world ready to be returned to and repaired and…and whatever else its inhabitants have left to do."

"It's a nice feeling, isn't it?" Aeleus notes, not entirely realizing he has said it aloud.

"What's that?"

"Seeing things return to normal after all that's happened."

"Well, yes. Yes, it is."

Very nice, indeed. Which might have been at least part of the reason that he never brought Ienzo back inside like he had intended to, but instead remained outside as they gazed at the stars.


	2. Theme 99: Sweetheart

**Theme 99: Sweetheart- Even and Braig; Pre-BBS. They're about 11 or 12 here.**

**_XxXxXxXxXx_**

"O Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou Romeo?" Braig read flatly from the script spread out on the table, leaning heavily against his fist. "Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?" Even asked, offering little more enthusiasm as he read off Romeo's part.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor—Does she ever _shut up_?" Braig demanded, breaking away from the script abruptly.

"It's a monologue, they tend to be lengthy," Even muttered. "And that's the last 'nor' in that line, just get on with it."

"Why do I have to be the chick?" Braig went on, ignoring him. "Why can't I be the prince, or Tybalt, or someone cool?"

"Because your hair is longer," Even retorted.

"Only 'cause your mom made you get yours cut!"

"You have a _ponytail_."

"It's a short one, like biker's have," Braig defended, glaring across the table at his friend.

"_Ponytail_," Even repeated. "Like _girls _wear."

"You hair was halfway down your back!"

"At least I didn't _style _mine."

"That so doesn't count as styling it," Braig grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes, it does."

"Does not."

"Does."

"Does _not."_

"We could probably find a bow if you want to complete the look," Even offered, smirking at him. "I'm sure your sister has one somewhere."

"I will strangle you."

"We could even get one of the big ones that the cheerleaders wear," he went on. "Maybe they would let you join in."

"I hate you."

"I know. Now go on, the sooner we finish this, the better." Glancing back down at the page, Even read off the last line of Braig had read as a prompt, "It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man."

With an exaggerated sigh, Braig reluctantly continued. "O, be some other name. What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself."

"I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and—"

"This is _dumb_," Braig interrupted, just barely resisting the urge to sweep the papers off of the table. "Why do we have to read about this stupid sweetheart, anyway? All the interesting stuff happens to Romeo."

"'Because William Shakespeare is a celebrated playwright and it would be a terrible shame if we had to wait until high school to read his work as a class'," Even grumbled, reciting their teacher's explanation.

"I hate her even more than I hate Juliet."

"Just read your stupid line."

"It's _your turn_."

"No, I'm positive it's yours."

"Is _not._"

_**XxXxXxXxXx**_

**No offense meant to Shakespeare, obviously.**


End file.
